


Morning Routine

by SirKai



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Beards, Beards (Facial Hair), Facial Shaving, Gen, Shaving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 14:00:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3175506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirKai/pseuds/SirKai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First Enchanter Vivienne stumbles upon her dearest Grey Warden making a fool of himself, and simply won't stand for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Routine

Her arrival could be telegraphed a battlefield away. Blackwall found it rare to _not_ hear Vivienne nagging about something to someone, so the warden continued his routine as if he was oblivious.

Of course, as he figured, that would not spare him the trouble. Even he could admit he must look something a bit less than dignified; crouched down in a foul mount stable and tending to his beard with a rather worn mirror propped against the wall.

“Oh my darling Blackwall, whatever are you doing?” the enchanter asked in her very usual, _very_ condescending tone.

He may as well have shouted her by name, Blackwall thought. “Nothin’ that would interest you, Lady Enchanter. Just doing a bit of self grooming- and yes, I do take some effort to look after my appearance.” Blackwall rinsed the razor in the bucket between his knees and continued scraping at his neck.

“Was that an existing habit of yours’, or is it something newly acquired? Because from where I’m standing, your skill in this supposed act of ‘grooming’ is looking positively...” Vivienne noted his roughly uneven hair lines on his neck and cheeks, the woefully imprecise tool he’d equipped for the job, and his audacity to remove his shirt. In the open. _Where people could see him._ “Amateurish.”

“I feel that I’m going to regret asking what you mean but-- humor me Vivienne-- what do you mean?”

“I was simply curious if finally being in company of a higher class might have instilled some sense of humility in you, Blackwall. But I suppose _some_ could still in fact be very little.”

Blackwall choked back a laugh. “Humility? _You?_ Since when would anyone like you know anything about humility?”

“I’m quite familiar with the concept, actually. I did not gain my status and confidence with it simply falling into my lap.”

“Really? Is that so?”

“Yes, it is so. I’ve worked exceptionally hard and experienced more than you can imagine, particularly given your-- how should I say it-- _limited_ perspective involving people such as myself. But that’s enough of me; we’ve sidled quite far away from the subject at hand.”

“And what subject is that?”

“To put it bluntly darling,” Vivienne started. She paced into the building towards Blackwall, her heels creating a rhythm of thonks across the stables’ wooden floor. “You haven’t the faintest idea how to care for that beard of yours.”

“I’d hardly think you would be the Inquisition’s expert on how to shave a man’s face.” The warden turned back towards his mirror and raised the razor back towards his face.

Vivienne leaned down to snatch it from his grasp in an authoritative swipe, like taking a dangerous kitchen utensil from a troublesome child. “I don’t need to be an expert.”

“Wh- Hey, I’m using that! What in the maker’s balls-”

“Please put a restraint on that uncouth tongue you have,” the enchanter said her impatient, demanding tone. “Now, do you intend to look presentable or not?”

“I can make myself look presentable, thank you very much Lady Vivienne.” He held out an expectant hand. The enchanter continued as if she didn't even notice.

“We've been in service together for months now and I've seen no evidence of such. Now please, simply hold still.” The wooden planks between the two companions creaked several more times as Vivienne stepped closer. She leaned in with the razor raised in her hand. “You can at least do that, I hope.”

“I don’t see the point in my beard looking like an accessory to one of your Orlesian masks, Lady Enchanter.”

“You report directly to the Inquisitor. As much as it pains me to admit, you are in a very defining and influential role my dear Blackwall. We’re all here to restore safety and order, are we not?”

“Well, I suppose so-”

“Suppose nothing. You can’t afford to look like the riff-raff we’re rallying against.” Vivienne picked and tugged at a few different places in Blackwall’s beard, her mouth contorting in increasingly greater degrees of disgust. "And this-" she continued as she pulled a small pair of chipped scissors from the Warden's belt. "-is pathetic. I can't imagine a man who's not worth a proper pair of scissors. He owes it to himself _and_ everyone around him. 

The warden groaned, then retired to silence for another minute as his companion snipped and cut across his face.

Vivienne stepped back to admire her work from afar. She placed a thoughtful finger to her chin while she judged. “Hmmm.”

“You satisfied yet?”

“Why not ask yourself?” The enchanter extended her hand towards the stained mirror and took a step backwards.

The warden cocked an eyebrow at his reflection, then turned and tilted his head in a few different directions. The edges of his beard did look sharper and neater, and the two ends that trailed from his chin were a good deal more defined. A barely audible “hmm” reverberated from his throat.

“I can see you’re impressed.”

“I-” Blackwall caught himself before he committed to something he’d regret. “It looks alright, your highness.”

“Hahaha, of course it does darling. I won’t hold it against you; you’re more than welcome to thank me next time. I’m sure you’ll have worked up the nerve by then.”

“Next time? What, are you intending to make this some kind of routine?”

“Are you seriously going to forfeit the opportunity? One’s presentation demands constant attention and care, Blackwall. Underneath all of your grizzled _appeal_ is a striking face with some very attractive features. I will absolutely make sure your beard accentuates your qualities instead of covering them up like some pesky overgrown weed.”

“How kind of you, Lady Enchanter.”

“Anything for the Inquisition, my dear Blackwall.”


End file.
